The Words We Never Spoke
by MegGiry-TheAlbino
Summary: What if when Katniss left for the 74th Hunger Games, she never came back? Peeta feels the guilt weigh on him, and takes responsibility for her younger sister. As the boy with the bread deal with the regret, the youngest Everdeen feels like she is on fire... One-Shot. Rated T for character death.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT, NOR WILL I EVER, OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL CREDIT GOES TO WHERE IT IS DUE.**

**Title: The Words We Never Spoke**

**Summary:What if when Katniss left for the 74th Hunger Games, she never came back? Peeta feels the guilt weigh on him, and takes responsibility for her younger sister. As the boy with the bread deal with the regret, the youngest Everdeen feels like she is on fire...**

**A/U:This is a one-shot. I wrote it on improv. I say this is a one-shot because everytime I don't clarify a story is a one-shot, I get people begging for a second chapter. One-Shot. Si. I am taking requests. Don't forget to review!**

I was sleeping sadly at my little house in the winner's circle. But I wasn't here because of my sister. My sister left for the Capitol after she volunteered for me, but she never came back. Peeta Mellark won the 74th Hunger Games, after he watched Katniss get brutally murdered by Cato atop the cornucopia. He'd tried to save her, I'd seen that. But he couldn't do anything after Cato snapped my sister's neck, couldn't do anything but get revenge.

I knew Peeta couldn't stand the attention, stand everyone smiling at him, telling him what a hero he was. He always disowned it, telling people he only survived because of the girl on fire, who wore the mockingjay pin. And this much was true, even though it was because of her he had the prosthetic leg now, but Lord knows where he would be if she hadn't attempted to save him. I was proud of Katniss, and wasn't the least bit sorry she had died to save Peeta.

Peeta looked after me, just like I knew Katniss probably asked of him. Gale felt happy to be relieved of his duties, not having to look into the face that was so similar to his best friend, the girl he probably loved.

Peeta could hardly face me when he came home. He gave me all the money, and even the house in the winner's circle, which he probably wasn't supposed to do, but did. Every now and then he would break down in sobs late at night, find me and constantly apologize. I couldn't turn him away. I'd break down too, sobbing that none of this was his fault.

But I honestly couldn't find a soul to blame.

I felt a hand press to my forehead, and I sighed, eye still shut tight as I stretched on the couch. I heard a gruff laugh. His laugh. My heart fluttered, just like I knew it would when it confirmed it was him.

"Someone was tired last night," Peeta said. I smiled, finally opening my eyes. I drunk in the sight of him in a steel gray tee shirt, and red-and-black check thermal pants, white tube socks on his feet. He was sitting on the coffee table in front of me, elbows on his knees, hands under his chin, fingers lacing up to his rose-tinted cheeks.

"Did I fall asleep on the couch?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. He nodded.

"Where's your mom?" he asked me.

I sighed. "You know her. She's always preferred the other house."

She did, as did Buttercup, so I knew Mama wasn't alone there. Peeta and I shared the house alone, his mother and father still rested in the small apartment above their bakery, just to keep it going.

Peeta sighed, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. I felt my cheeks turn vermilion, and I looked down, sheepishly and with a giddy smile. Peeta smiled sadly at me, like I was some bitter-sweet memory.

"...Sit up," he commanded. I blinked, but obeyed slowly.

"What-"

"Shhh..." he said, coming to sit behind me. His right leg was thrown from behind my back, to his foot in my lap, and his left prosthetic was flush with the left side of my body. He was leaning against my back, his elbows resting gingerly on my shoulder blades. His hands dug like claws into my river of hair, and I felt his soft finger tips skim the back of my neck, sending goosebumps down my spine.

I took everything in silence, as he toyed wit my hair, flipping one strand this way and another that. I didn't know what he was doing, until a mirror was placed in front of me. His tan hand flopped my crop of hair over my shoulder, revealing it laced in and around each other in a perfect plait.

"...Peeta..." I whispered. His drooped in chin onto my other shoulder, smiling lazily.

"...You look so much like her..." he said. I smiled sadly back at him, and I let body warmth crowd around me, his breath tangle down my skin. I turned my head, so that I had to lean away so not to brush his face with my lips. He too turned, and we were so close, it was hard to breath.

"...Katniss..." he mouthed.

I was crying as his pink lips were pressed to mine, the memory of my sister with us, clouding my thoughts, surrounding our love.

**A/U: Thank you for reading, please review! I am taking requests, also.**


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